by Kate Swain
I recognized the feeling now for what it was, and that didn’t please me: it was longing.
“Come on, Carter. She’s younger than Matthew and Mark. Be sensible.”
I wasn’t exactly sure what age she was, but I guessed she was in her twenties somewhere. She wouldn’t look twice at me. Hence, I thought with some surprise, my annoyance. I didn’t like the feeling that she wouldn’t look twice at me.
“Boss?” a voice called from the door. “Should we go now?”
I turned around slowly, wincing as my back clicked. “I’ll come and check on the cleaning now, Adam,” I called over my shoulder. I headed back to the warehouse.
It was a ritual with us, one that was not entirely necessary, but which we performed every workday nevertheless. I would check the work, make sure everything was back in its place, and inspect the tidiness of the workstations and floors. If everything was good—and, inevitably, it was—I’d give the word, and they’d go home.
I was tired today, and I really didn’t feel like making the rounds. I just wanted to go home. When I was there, I thought I’d do my best to forget about this business with Amelia. Simply thinking about her made my body respond, my cock growing stiff.
Oh, come on, I told myself impatiently. You can’t go around doing this.
I followed Adam outside, taking the long way around to the shop. I didn’t feel like walking past the new receptionist just yet.
“Okay,” I said, glancing around at the swept floor, the neat benches, the covered bikes. “All set. Let’s call it a day around here.”
“Yeah!” Mark sounded happy. “Let’s go.”
“You just want to go out,” Matthew teased.
“Sure I do. I have some interest in a certain someone.”
Matthew rolled his eyes, and Adam cuffed Mark on the shoulder, who laughed loudly. “You always have someone you’re interested in, Mark,” Matthew teased.
Mark was still laughing as the three of them pushed through the workshop doors. I could hear the sound of an engine starting up, raw and powerful, and I knew Adam was heading off on his custom-built bike. I recalled the conversation that I overheard.
But I love the sound they make. That’s what she’d said when she was talking about motorcycles.
Just thinking about the way Amelia had said that—warm, enthused, her eyes all sparkling—made me get hard.
I ran my hand over my hair and strode out into the gathering dark.
My car was parked around the side. Unlike most of the guys, who came on bikes, I tended to take my car—just in case someone needed to pick up something big, like an engine for example. I drove an older Toyota. I’d had it since I was twenty-five. It wasn’t beautiful, but I maintained it well, and the engine ran as smooth as silk.
I got into the driver’s seat, started the engine, switched on the lights since it was now getting dark about seven or so, and drove away.
“I think I need to get something to eat.”
I felt my stomach rumble with the promise of food. I avoided the guys at lunch today because it didn’t feel right to join them with the new receptionist tagging along. I hadn’t eaten much since breakfast. I planned a quick trip to the grocery store, and just as I was about to turn off the main road into town, I saw some movement up ahead on the right.
Somebody was walking along the sidewalk.
In itself, that shouldn’t have been strange. People walk on sidewalks, even in the industrial zone of a big city. But it was seven-twenty, pitch dark, and getting cold. And this person was alone and obviously a woman—her curvy hips and a slim waist drew my attention. I stopped.
Rolling down the window, I stuck my head out. “Want a lift, Miss?” I asked politely. “It isn’t safe.”
I stared.
Looking back at me, brown eyes big like saucers, was Amelia Rose.
“No, thank you,” she said. She turned away. I saw her quicken her pace. I shouted.
“Amelia… it’s not safe. Please.”
She stopped. Turned around. I felt my heart go through the floor. I was worried because we were in a rough neighborhood, and I hated the thought of her being in danger. She walked back to the car.
“You surprised me,” she said.
“I did?” I asked. The thought gave me a warm feeling, spilling over into my loins.
“Yes. I didn’t know you could say please.”
I grinned. “I can,” I said. She hopped in the car.
She was not looking at me but staring through the windshield. Her face was set and tense. I felt my big smile droop a little at the edges, and I put my focus back on driving. She clearly wasn’t interested.
“You know,” I said as I started us off. “You should get a car. You can drive, can’t you?” I asked. I hadn’t thought about how she might be coming to work. If she didn’t have a vehicle, it would be quite difficult for her, especially with fall setting in
She shot me a look. “Yes. I can drive. I just didn’t take the car today. I wasn’t thinking I was going to be working today.”
“Fine,” I said. I felt like she had just slapped me. There wasn’t any need to speak to me like that, I thought. As far as I knew, I hadn’t done anything to hurt anybody. I leaned back in the seat, feeling resentful.
We drove along in silence.
As we drove, I couldn’t help looking sideways every now and again. Amelia was wearing jeans and a loose blouse, and I could see her shapely hips and the outline of her breasts. It drove me crazy, and the more I tried to ignore my growing lust for her, the more difficult it was to think of anything to say. The awkward silence grew.
“Thank you for stopping,” she said as we drove along the main road.
I felt her soft voice soothe my soul. I also felt a stirring in my groin. She was really close in here, so close that when I shifted gears, I almost felt her thigh with my hand. I didn’t know how much longer I could bear her proximity without going completely crazy.
“It’s no trouble,” I said. My voice sounded weird. I coughed loudly.
“You want a tissue?” she asked. “It’s this cold weather. Makes your nose run.”
“I’m fine,” I said firmly. She was holding a tissue out to me, and the thought of taking it, feeling those fine fingers on my skin, even for a second, was more than my poor heavily aroused body could take.
“Okay,” she said lightly.
We drove into town. As I went through the stoplight, she turned to me.
“The next intersection goes to my place. When you turn left.”
“Oh?” I was surprised. “You live close to work, then. That’s good.”
“I don’t live close to work,” she replied decisively. “My friend does. I’m staying with her.”
“Oh.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I said nothing. I carried on down the main road. We reached another set of traffic lights.
“Turn left here. Please,” she added. Her eyes caught mine.
Hell, she was sexy. I couldn’t help the flood of feelings, like electricity, that ran through my body. I sat uncomfortably on the seat and tried to ignore the nearly full erection in my pants and concentrate on the traffic. We turned left.
I glanced at her, but she wasn’t looking at me. I could hear in her voice that she was tense. I wondered why it was that she seemed to dislike me so much.
“Where to next?” I asked.
She turned to face me. I thought I could see tension in her eyes, almost fear. I didn’t know what to say. I felt offended. Was she afraid of me? I focused on the driving, ignoring the tension I felt. “Another few blocks or so. It’s on the left. At the intersection between Sixth Street and Wyandotte Street,” she said.
“Oh.” I raised a brow. “A good neighborhood.”
“Well, it’s safer than this one,” she said, jerking her head in the direction of the Columbus Park industrial area.
I nodded. “You shouldn’t walk there alone at night. It’s not safe.”
She lo
oked at me with an expression that suggested that I shouldn’t be telling her what she should or should not do. I swallowed hard. I got to the intersection and pulled up along the curb.
“Thanks for the lift,” she said.
“It’s the least I could do,” I said.
We looked at each other. I didn’t know what to say. At the moment that her gaze softened, even a little, I fell into her eyes and drowned in their chocolate-warm depths. She looked away.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said. She pulled up the lock and opened the car door.
“We’ll start at seven tomorrow,” I called after her as she got out. “An early start. See you?”
“Bye. Thanks.”
She slammed the door and walked up the street. I watched her a while to make sure she got home safely. She swayed a little when she walked. I felt my cock responding again. I sighed.
“This is ridiculous,” I told myself angrily.
I shut my eyes and breathed slowly. Then I rejoined the traffic. I stopped at a supermarket on the way home and bought a frozen vegetable pie and fries for dinner.
At home, I put dinner in the microwave and sat on the couch, covering my head with my hands. I was more physically excited than I had been in a long time. I was also feeling jumpy and annoyed. Why was she so mean to me?
I sighed. Even thinking about her coldness made my longing worse. I stood up and went to the shower.
I turned on the water and pulled my t-shirt up over my head. Flexing my big shoulders, I looked down at my chest, pleased to see that my abs were still firm and hard. I almost had a six-pack. My cock was pushing against the zipper of my jeans.
I’m not that bad.
Oddly, her attitude really stung me. I had gotten used to women checking me out, even hitting on me occasionally. I hadn’t expected somebody to treat me so cold like I was some kind of nuisance.
I recalled the look in those big brown eyes as I got into the shower.
“Damn,” I said appreciatively to myself. “I’m hard.”
My cock was standing out like a rod. I was thinking about her body and being able to undress her. I was completely firm. I moved my hand, grabbing myself. I started to stroke myself, slowly, with my eyes closed, imagining Amelia doing it. I imagined her in my bedroom.
I began to undress her, revealing her curvy and sweet body. Her breasts were full. I imagined her lying on her back, her breasts bared for my gaze. I imagined her lips slightly parted, curving up into a tender smile. She would reach for me as I bent to kiss her, slim fingers curling around my cock.
“Hi, gorgeous,” she whispered.
I smiled and kissed her neck. Her skin felt smooth. It smelled good. I buried my face in it, letting my lips suck on the soft skin of her shoulder, then moving down. I took one of her soft breasts in my mouth, feeling the nipple harden.
She gasped, and I sucked her, feeling her fingers tighten on my hardness as I let my own fingers stroke her skin.
My mind snapped back to the present moment. I was in the shower, my own hand tight around my cock, working it for all I was worth.
I gasped and gritted my teeth. I let my mind drift back to Amelia, feeling myself throbbing, seeing the small slit tighten in the end as I got closer and closer to coming and then, panting uncontrollably, I finished, spraying my seed into my hand and onto the shower walls, hot and thick.
When I got out of the shower, I sat down heavily on my bed and closed my eyes. I chuckled.
“Damn!” I hadn’t felt so good in a long time. I could feel my cock still throbbing. Rays of fulfillment spread up from my waist through my whole body, making me soften and relax. I felt amazing.
I sighed and stood, drying myself off. I should eat my dinner and then go to bed. I hoped that I had dealt with my distraction.
In the kitchen, I saw the grocery bags and recalled going into the store after dropping her off at her friend’s. She was in my mind again, and I realized that I had not finished dreaming of her.
I felt annoyed, confused, and disapproving of myself. I also, I had to admit, felt good. I was excited about tomorrow.
6
Amelia
I listened to the sounds in the kitchen. I felt distracted. I was hollow, and somehow my mind felt worn out.
“…and I told him he could have it. And then I shook his hand and walked out. So, now we have one hundred and twenty dollars instead of a microwave. How does that sound?”
I coughed, trying to get my mind to focus on the present and on whatever Tanya was telling me while she cooked rice on the hot plate by the window.
“That sounds great,” I managed after a moment when the sense of what she was saying had finally sunk into my head. “It didn’t really work, anyhow, that microwave.”
“No,” she agreed, turning around to face me. “It didn’t. Do you like chili?”
“Um, sort of,” I replied. It registered on my weary mind that she was making dinner, and I should help. “Listen… can I help with something?”
“Not at all,” Tanya grinned, running the back of her hand over her forehead, where perspiration combined with steam to make her skin a little damp. “How’s your job hunting going?”
I grinned because of the butterflies in my tummy. “I got the job.”
“You did? Oh, wow! You minx… you didn’t say you’d applied!” she grabbed me and smothered me in a hug that smelled like grapefruit. I laughed.
“Tanya… it wasn’t really all me. Tex put in a kind word for me just when I showed up to apply.” I really was grateful for that. I don’t think I’d have gotten the job without him.
“Tex is a sweetheart,” Tanya grinned.
“He is,” I said. Compared to the guy who was now my boss, I thought. I had to say it was guys like Tex who reminded me that not all men were bad. I frowned.
“What’s wrong?” Tanya asked, bending down to the table to get a bowl of grated carrots she’d prepared earlier. “You look worried… was work hard?”
“No,” I shook my head. “Work was pretty easy. The office is a bit disorganized, but that’ll improve,” I said, absently thinking to myself that I needed to ask for more file boxes. That, however, was only going to materialize if I asked one of the other guys. I didn’t want to ask him for anything.
“What, then?” Tanya asked. “Bad boss? Which one is he, by the way?”
“Which one?” I frowned, feeling torn.
“At the bike shop. I went there once. I remember a skinny guy with pale hair. That him?”
“No,” I chuckled. “That’s one of the mechanics. He’s hot too, mind you.”
“I guess,” Tanya agreed. “All of them are. In their own ways. That’s one of the reasons why I wanted to know which one was the boss.” She made a wicked face. I laughed.
“He’s the black-haired one. Well, dark, anyway,” I said. Even talking about him made my cheeks hot. I looked away, surprised by how I reacted to even the thought of him.
Stop it, Amelia. I felt impatient.
Tanya laughed. “That one! Wow! He’s a hot potato.” She whistled, and I laughed.
“I guess. If you like that kind of thing.”
“If you like that kind of thing?” Tanya started laughing. “Who doesn’t? Well, actually… he is a bit raw. Rough, really. With those big hands and that rugged face.” She grinned. “Hell. He can ride my bike anytime.”
Laughing, I shook my head. “Tanya! You’re terrible.”
“Yes,” she grinned. “I am. But what’s he like?” she asked.
“Horrible,” I said instantly.
“Really?” she looked interested. “Nasty?”
“Kind of.” I nodded. “He’s weird. Rude, arrogant, a bit dismissive.”
“Stuck up? That’s weird, for a bike type.” Tanya frowned.
“I know,” I nodded. “I don’t know what his problem is. Doesn’t like women, I guess.”
“Oh?” Tanya looked interested. “Well, he has a real problem, then.”
I gi
ggled. “Maybe,” I said.
“What did he say to upset you?” Tanya asked, dropping a flat thing into a pan of hot oil. It started to hiss, and she grabbed a fork and spatula to turn it, then dropped in another one. “Something really rude, I bet.”
“No, well, he wasn’t rude every time he talked to me,” I said. I struggled to describe him. He wasn’t ugly at all! Actually, he could be kind. He’d driven me home. And, despite our rocky start, he hadn’t criticized my work. He hadn’t praised it either, I thought, feeling a bit offended. But he wasn’t unkind. “He’s not actually rude, not exactly. He’s a bit awkward, and he doesn’t have good manners. But he has a kind, thoughtful side to him.”
“Nice?” Tanya asked. “So asshole moments.”
“Yeah, kind of.” I nodded.
I could hear the fondness in my own voice, and it surprised me. I was attracted.
“He sounds hot!” Tanya sounded happy. “Good for you.”
“He’s not interested,” I said. I cleared my throat. I sounded annoyed.
“Oh. A nice-looking asshole, he remains,” Tanya replied. She grabbed a plate and took the food out of the pan, setting the plate aside while she added more things to the frying-pan. I stood up and came over to help her.
“Yeah,” I agreed, as she placed another fish filet on the pan, hearing it sizzle. “He’s an asshole. But the mechanics are nice.”
“Hot mechanics?” Tanya raised a brow.
I grinned. “Tanya, you are incorrigible.”
“If that means I never stop chasing hot men, then yeah,” she grinned. “I guess.”
I laughed. “It sort of means that,” I agreed, holding the plate for her while she finished with the cooking.
“Well, then,” she said, picking up a dish of salad and some grape-juice from the table. “You’re incorrigible, too.”
I laughed. “Maybe,” I agreed, putting the plate down on the kitchen table. “I am. But that’s one hot guy that I am not going to be thinking of.”
“I understand,” Tanya nodded. “A toast. To not chasing assholes anymore.”
I laughed. That sounded good, and I drank to that. As we ate, and Tanya told me about her day at work—she was an assistant to the boss of a travel agency—I found my thoughts wandering back to the topic of Carter.
